


Good that

by Dark_K



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, Crossover, FANDOM SOUP TIME, Happy Ending, I didn't mean for the angst to happen and yet, M/M, Smutt, alternative universe, because, really what is happiness without smutt?, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2017-12-30 16:16:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_K/pseuds/Dark_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas always knew he would have to be the one to save himself.</p><p>He didn't expect it to be quite like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Last Lie

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know I should be updating When it all falls apart, but I started reading Maze Runner Thursday, and then I finished the first three books yesterday, and the ANGST, I couldn't take it, and I had to make Thomas happy before anything else.
> 
> Thus, here you have the story of how Thomas is going to be happy. This is it. I have four chapters ready, I think I'll be done with it in six or seven chapters tops - I'll be posting them soon.
> 
> Hope you guys like it.
> 
> Oh, there are spoilers for Maze Runner, The Scorch Trials and The Death Cure here. And, of course, up till 3a from Teen Wolf.

****

**Good that**

**The Last Lie**

It’s a whole year later when Brenda tells Thomas about Chancellor Paige’s plan.

And he can’t think of anything worse than hearing her tell him that it was all a plan again, that he had lost again, that he had played in the hands of WICKED one more time.

She swears to him that completing the plan was something she would have done even if it wasn’t the plan – she would have escaped with him, brought him somewhere safe, been with him for as long as he’d have her. She swears she loves him for real, not because WICKED said so, that she wants to be them, together, happy in their hidden away secret world.

Except Thomas can’t. He can’t deal with this betrayal again, he can’t deal with knowing that they _were_ the final plan after all, that they had been trained in the Glades for _this_ as much as they had been analyzed for patterns and behaviors. That their way of running the farms and learning how to make sure they knew how to grow their food and manage their water supplies and handle the animals had also been training for them – just in case.

They were still doing exactly what WICKED wanted them to do and he felt as if he couldn’t take it anymore.

As soon as she finishes speaking, her eyes full of tears, he gets up and turns away, trying to be alone.

He’s angry, he’s feeling defeated, betrayed, and, worst of all, he has no place to run. There’s no getting out of this place. They are safe and confined.

He can’t escape WICKED.

Minho is the one find him a few hours after he left Brenda in the room they had been sharing for a few months now.

His friend takes a seat beside him on the sand, looking straight ahead.

“So, she told you” he states, and Thomas turns to stare at him, frowning.

“You knew?”

“I suspected. By the end of it she was talking some pretty weird things, and she was just… She was too good to be true” his friend explains, shrugging, “Anything that’s that good can’t be real. I don’t _trust_ good stuff to be real anymore, and come on, the chick who changed her whole belief because of you? Who agreed to help us get here with nothing to go on to but her wish to, what, help _us_? How can we trust that?”

Thomas doesn’t answer to that, staring ahead of him again, because Minho is right, of course.

He’s calmed down some since their arrival – not so quick to pick fights, relaxing bit by bit, getting used to the fact that no one would find them here, that they were safe.

Alone in a safe haven as the world outside burned to a crisp, swarming with death and madness and heat.

“It just… kills me that they won” he whispers a few minutes later, taking a deep breath and letting the air out slowly, “We did just what they wanted us to _again_. I wanted for _once_ to do something that wasn’t being dictated by them. I wanted to know we made our choices because we _wanted_ to make them and not because it was their plan.”

“I’d get out of here with you in a second if there was a way, dude” Minho tells him with no hesitation in his voice, staring ahead too, “When we got here, all I wanted was the peace and quiet and safety, but the more I think about it, the more tainted this becomes. I don’t want to be the base of a new era for the human race or some crap like Jorge keeps telling people. Not if WICKED is behind it. If there was a way, I’d go out there with ya, no questions asked.”

Thomas snorts at that, a small smile on his lips.

“Good that” he replies quietly, leaning back on the sand.

In the distance, their small community is getting ready for the night. Their numbers are still small enough that they have only two main houses built so far, mostly they sleep under the stars like they used to in the Glade, hiding under the roof of the main house only when it rained.

The sun sets slowly here, it’s still pretty early, and soon there’ll be the smell of food being cooked, fires being lit, stories being told, as if they are on a vacation and nothing bad is happening, when truth is they are just what remained from an experiment gone wrong. They are the safety measure, the back door, the certainty that WICKED would always, no matter what, win.

Thomas sighs again, getting ready to tell Minho they should up and go help set up things for the night when he feels a sting in his left hand – a pinch, as if someone is pulling the skin there.

He looks down at it just as he hears Minho’s curse.

“What is this?” the other boy asks, his voice angry, just as Thomas feels the pinching again, this time on his neck. He looks at Minho, trying to see if there are any bugs on him, but he can’t see anything properly – the whole world is spinning by then, swirling around as if he’s spinning really fast with his eyes open.

“What the hell” he says, just as the pinching sensation takes over his whole body. He looks to the side, where Minho looks like he’s _fading away_.

He can’t really be scared by what he sees, though, because that’s the moment he loses conscience and darkness takes over. 


	2. The First Truth

**Good that**

**The First Truth**

“Dude, you really screwed up this time” the voice is quiet, but not quiet enough that someone nearby wouldn’t hear it, and Thomas _is_ nearby, lying on what he thinks it’s a bed. He keeps his breathing calm, not wanting to alert anyone of his awaken state, trying to listen some more.

Maybe this is another test. Maybe they never even _left_ WICKED and their island was just a drugged induced hallucination, and the Trials were still going on, and he would see Rat Man as soon as he opened his eyes.

“Dude, you don’t have to tell me that _again_ , I freaking _know_ I screwed up, I was only trying to, you know, practice. Like Deaton _told me to_.”

Now, _that_ was weird, because he could have sworn that was _his voice_.

“Deaton told you to _conjure people_?!” the first voice again, this time with a squeaky quality to it, and the second person just sighs, his voice a bit muffled when he answers, as if he’s covering his face with his hands.

“No, Scott, he told me to practice getting us out of trouble, so he wouldn’t have to come running to him every time we stubbed a toe. His words, not mine.”

“Then what the freaking hell happened, Stiles?” Scott – that seems to be the name of the first voice – sounds more exasperated than worried, and Thomas starts to think that maybe this isn’t at all what he’d been expecting.

“I don’t want to tell you” Stiles – the second voice – answers.

“Why the hell not?!”

“Because you’ll yell at me.”

“Why would I yell at you?” the voice sounds so confused, so _young_ , so innocent, that Thomas takes a chance and opens just a little bit of his eyes to _see_ who’s talking. The person who talked just now has his face turned in his direction and he can see real confusion there – a friendly face, looking almost hurt because the other guy thought he’d yell at him.

“Because I kinda forgot to take my medicine for the ADHD before I started practicing?” the kid, Stiles, who has his back to Thomas, starts talking, his tone apologetic, and he’s twisting his hands a bit.

“Oh, god, you started a spell and then thought of something completely different, didn’t you?” the first kid says, and Thomas sees Stiles shrugging.

A door opens with a loud bang by then and he closes his eyes again before Stiles can answer.

“Did I just hear what I thought I heard? You were not only practicing magic with _no supervision_ , but you forgot your meds? Stiles, are you _trying_ to kill us all, or would that be just a side effect?”

The new voice is soft and yet a bit gruffy, Thomas can’t quite make his mind up – it’s as if the guy talking wants to sound tougher than he really is.

“Oh my god, stop being so dramatic! I’m sure we can solve this in a second! And it wasn’t that bad!”

“Stiles, there’s an Asian kid and a clone _of you_ lying down on my bed.”

The way he sounds as he says that it’s almost fond – exasperated, sure, but with a hint of amusement to it, as if he’s used to crazy things happening.

Maybe he is.

He takes a second to relish the thought that Minho is with him.

They can get out of this together. At least he’s not alone.

“It could be a clone of _Scott_. Or _Jackson_. Things could be at least fifty seven times worse.”

“How is another me worse than another you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did! I’m not that bad, I’m actually really good! We haven’t almost died in three months!”

Thomas has to do his best to keep quiet, because the kid called Scott sounds awfully proud as he says that.

“ _I know_! I’m not saying it’d be bad, just, well. It’s not you. Why are we arguing about this?” Stiles asks, sounding truly baffled, and Thomas hears the newcomer chuckle quietly, not saying anything, “Anyway, I called Deaton, he said he’ll stop by in about an hour, and we just have to wait for the two of them to wake up too. I’m not really sure what I did, actually.”

“They are awake” states the newcomer, “Couldn’t you notice that, Scott?”

“I was distracted by the perspective of another Stiles, sorry” Scott’s voice is a bit grumbly, just like a kid’s.

“Well, seeing as you know we’re awake, how about you shanks tell us what the hell are we doing here and where we are before we start seriously hurting you?”

Thomas sighs.

Trust Minho to start picking a fight before even trying to talk normally.

He opens his eyes and sits up – he is indeed on a bed, but the bed is in the middle of a living room – or what should be the living room if the place he’s in had, you know, walls.

Looking around, his stare stops at the kid called Stiles and whoa.

They don’t just look alike, they are _the same_.

Same eyes and mouth and face. Same moles and birthmarks and small dots peppering their faces. Stiles looks a bit younger, his skin as pale as can be, no scar in sight, but apart from that, they look like they could be twins.

The kid looks at him and waves a bit, and Thomas is struck with the feeling that they are nowhere _near_ where they had been before.

He looks to his side, and sees Minho is standing up on the other side of the bed, his eyes crossed, staring angrily at the three other people in the room.

“Uhm, hi. I’m Stiles. This is my friend Scott and my boyfriend Derek. We… ah, we kinda summoned you? I’m really sorry if we took you away from something important” the kid tells them in a rush, and Thomas gets up too.

The newcomer – Derek – pulls Stiles behind him, and Scott takes a step in his direction, stepping in front of Stiles too, like they are protecting him.

They are _protecting_ a version of him or a copy of him, and the thought seems so foreign for Thomas he almost laughs.

“Geez, let me talk to them!” Stiles protests, shoving Derek’s arm and glaring at Scott, “So, we called a guy who can help us out and send you back to wherever you came from.”

“What do you mean, where we came from?” Minho asks, his voice rising again and Thomas turns to stare at him, try to make sure he doesn’t try and attack the guys who have done nothing threatening to them.

Yet.

“Okay, so, you see, I’m kind of… I can… summon this thing called a Spark? And a few months back we had a thing with a Nemeton, and it kind of gave a boost to the small things I could do, and I should practice it, and I tried to do a thing, and you guys showed up. Luckily I was at Derek’s, because my dad would have _flipped_ if two dudes just showed up, out of thin air, in my room.”

The room is quiet for a while, when everyone seems to be digesting what was said.

“Shank, you ain’t making a lick of sense” Minho tells Stiles, tilting his head.

Strangely enough, the babble from the kid seemed to have calmed Minho down a bit.

“It’s complicated” the kid tells him, shrugging.

“It’s not complicated, it’s just you” Scott tells his friend, getting a slap to his the back of his head for his trouble.

“Look, why don’t we go into the kitchen, you guys can sit down, get a drink, _introduce_ _yourselves_ , and then we’ll talk, okay? I swear I didn’t do any of this with a malicious intent or anything, I just thought the wrong thing at the wrong time” suddenly the kid stops talking, looks at them with an intense kind of stare that makes him older and not as innocent as before, “And honestly? With the wording I was using when you guys showed up? I’m quite sure you’re in no hurry to go back to where I pulled you from.”

He stares at Thomas and then at Minho, the other two guys quiet as he stares.

Thomas looks at Minho and the other boy shrugs a bit – the kid isn’t all that wrong.

“Fine. I’m Thomas. That’s Minho” he doesn’t offer anything else, but it seems to be enough for the kid, who grins at them.

“Nice to meet you. So, you want anything to drink? Not alcohol, though, even though, really, it’s ridiculous that my boyfriend is twenty-three and won’t buy me alcohol.”

“Your dad is the Sheriff, Stiles” the Derek guy tells him, a sigh on his words, as they follow the three strangers to what seems to be a kitchen, but it’s really just another part of the same room – the only division is a stand with a few stools on either side.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s your answer to everything.”

“So, where are we exactly?” Minho asks, turning to look out the window – they seem to be in a city, not as big and, thankfully, not as dirty as Denver, and that’s pretty much all the cities they have to compare it to. The sun is shining outside, there’s a buzz of traffic and people milling about.

It doesn’t sound like a city under the siege of government to protect people from the Flare.

Maybe this is another part of the world that the government just wasn’t aware of. Maybe there was a part of it that was just fine. Maybe in the year since their escape WICKED or the Right Arm had actually found the Cure.

“You’re in Beacon Hills” the kid answers carefully, “That’s in California, USA. Uhm, the year is two thousand thirteen, in case you’re wondering.”

Minho’s eyes are large at that, and Thomas looks at the kid sharply, as if trying to catch him in a lie.

“We’re in _the past_?” Minho asks, looking just about as freaked out as Thomas feels. They came to the past? They possess the knowledge that everything in here will perish from the Flare in the future? What the hell?

“Well, see, that’s where it gets complicated. I don’t think you’re from the future” Stiles states, and Minho starts to get angry again.

“Dude, you’re not making any sense.”

“Look, maybe you are from _a_ future, but not ours. This isn’t… what I was trying to do.”

As Thomas tries to parse out what Stiles is saying, there’s a knock on the door and Scott and Derek trade a look as Derek goes to answer.

They are still watching them as hawks, not for _them_ , but for Stiles.

Protecting him.

When Derek comes back, he has a bald, dark skinned fellow with him. The man annoys Thomas right away, with the way he holds himself, as if he knows everything.

The man takes one look at him, then at Minho, and sighs, exasperated.

He rubs his eyes once, as if asking some deity for patience.

“What did you do now, Stiles?”

The kid fidgets a bit.

“Well, I think I brought these two guys from an Alternative Universe, parallel to ours. And that would be, you know, the _me_ in that universe. And his best friend.”

Thomas blinks once, twice, and trades a look with Minho – clearly they have all gone insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, you can find me on [Tumblr](http://darkjan.tumblr.com/)


	3. Sometimes you don’t have to be careful with what you wish for

**Good that**

**Sometimes you don’t have to be careful with what you wish for**

“Why do you think that?” bald guy asks, as if it’s perfectly normal for a kid to announce something like that.

“Well, they are here, for once” he tells the guy, gesturing towards Thomas and Minho.

“You know, we’re right here” Minho says, his voice annoyed – that’s one thing none of them really got over, being talked about as if they aren’t people, being called subjects. It just never goes away.

“Sorry. This is Deaton, he’ll help us out. That’s Thomas and Minho.”

The Deaton guy stares at them and inclines his head ever so slightly, analyzing the two of them carefully.

“What did you do exactly, Stiles?” he asks calmly, still staring at them, and Thomas feels the urge to run and hide, as if this guy could tell what was going on inside his very soul with just one look.

“I tried to practice the protection thing you told me to. But I kind of forgot to take my meds, and I started, you know, drifting towards different things. I remembered the trap the Kitsune had for Scott, and I remembered the ambush that those vampires tried to pull off, and I kept thinking that if I could just, you know, learn how to magic me and Scott _away_ from danger, then that’s all I had to learn” Deaton scoffs at that, but Stiles keeps going, as if he hasn’t heard, “And then I started thinking that we’ve got it bad, but it couldn’t be _the worst_. These past few months have actually been calm, and things are really great right now” at this he looks at Derek and smirks, as Derek shakes his head and looks down, but Thomas can see he’s fighting off a smile and losing, “So I just kept on going, thinking I wished I could help the very worst thing that could be happening to us, and then I thought maybe the us could be spread along the universe, you know, more than one place at once. That maybe me and Scott, maybe we were trapped in some really bad things, and I just kept wishing I could save us there too, at the worst. I didn’t realize I had called upon the Spark until things started shaking here, and these two guys just popped right on Derek’s bed, as if coming into existence out of thin air. They were kind of faded at first, and then getting stronger and more defined, and then they were here.”

“That’s how it felt” Minho says quietly beside him, “That’s exactly how it felt, like Thomas was fading away, and me too.”

“You’re not me, though” Scott says, frowning at Minho, as if the boy had offended him by not being him.

“I think I focused on the friendship thing more than, you know, the exact person. I think” Stiles begins, looking at Thomas with that knowing look again, “I think Thomas and Minho came from the very worst alternate universe with me there is. The worst situation, the worst things that could ever happen to any version of me in all of time and space – it’s him. And as I tried to save him and his best friend, I called them here, because I feel safe here now.”

“It could be it” Deaton tells them, still staring at Thomas and Minho, “But Alternate Universes should work like mirrors, you’d have the same name, the same parents, same patterns in your life, even if your lives were different – drastically different if what you’re theorizing is actually what happened.”

He stares at the two of them, as if expecting them to confirm or deny what they had said, and he and Minho again look at each other for a long moment, before Minho nods at him.

“Our names aren’t really Thomas and Minho. We can’t remember what we were called before… some bad things happened to us. I don’t remember much from my mom and dad, and, well, I can actually buy that we are – were – the version that got the very worst end of the deal.”

Deaton looks at Stiles and smiles then, it’s brief, but so very proud and so very fond that Thomas’s heart aches with it – there are just so many people who so obviously care about this boy, this… _him_ from this universe.

“Well, it seems you did learn how to protect you and your best friend from some things, just not the right ones. I think I remember telling you that you do not _cheat_ with magic, Stiles. You follow the rules.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But, hey, if we helped them, then it’s all cool, right? I was trying to help, did I help you guys?”

“Depends on what you consider helping” Minho mumbles, and Thomas finds that he agrees.

“Can you send us back?” Thomas asks then, and Deaton turns his attention back at him, tilting his head.

“Do you two _want_ to go back?”

“Hell no” Minho answers before they have any time to think or talk about it, and Thomas turns to look at him sharply, but the boy only shrugs, “What? It’s true! We were _just_ talking about how if we could we’d leave the island. It sure beats being in a place created by WICKED with that traitor and it _sure as hell_ beats going out in the world infested by the Flare.”

Thomas sighs at that – it’s true, isn’t it?

Deaton sighs.

“Well, that’s good then, because I don’t think we could send you back anyway. The circumstances in which Stiles tried to get you here were different than what he’d have to do to send you away – and I don’t think Stiles could actually perform a spell that would cause you harm. His Spark only ever seems to work towards _helping_ people. It’s a very endearing trait, I’m sure you two share it” he tells Thomas, his eyes playful, and Thomas just stares at the man as he says his goodbyes and leaves.

“You guys will actually have to fill us in in your code words there, because I think I heard magic being talked about as if it existed, and I’m not sure I’m down with that” Minho completes after they hear the door closing behind Deaton, and Stiles laughs a bit at that.

“We should move this to the living room, this is going to take a while” he tells Scott and Derek, before dragging Thomas and Minho back to the living room.

Thomas is sure it can’t be that bad, right?

**X**

“Werewolves?” Minho says for the fifth time, as Thomas just stares at Derek’s bright blue eyes, and Scott’s shining red ones. Beta and Alpha.

“Yup” Stiles confirms cheerfully for the fifth time too.

“This is so freaking unfair. We get stuck with Grievers and WICKED and Cranks and the Flare, and they are here, hanging out with _werewolves_. Obviously, I’m friends with the wrong version of you” he tells Thomas who tries to glare at him, but can’t quite manage.

It’s just amazing, the whole thing. And the more he thinks about it, the more convinced he becomes that this is _actually happening_.

They have _actually_ been rescued from that island, from that planet, that _universe_. They are out of the reach of Brenda and her deceit, WICKED and their manipulation, the Flare and its diseased, crazed victims.

They are finally, _finally_ , free.

“I am pretty awesome” Stiles states, “The rest of the guys are cool too, you’ll meet them later.”

“The rest of your… pack?” Thomas checks, and Stiles smiles at him.

“Yeah. They’re all pretty awesome, except for Jackson.”

“Stiles” Scott says, as if reprimanding him – which, in theory, should have to work, because they just told them Scott is their leader, their Alpha, just like Minho was their leader back in the Scorch and in the Island.

Except it doesn’t really work on Stiles, he just pretends he’s heard nothing and keeps on going.

This version of him wouldn’t have survived in his world, that’s for sure. He doesn’t seem to possess a single ounce of self-preservation instinct.

“I mean, not that we don’t love him, because we are in this whole thing where we adopt out ex-enemies and make friends with them, it didn’t work out the first time, but…” he trails off, and Scott sighs.

“Dude, Jackson wasn’t even our enemy to begin with. And that thing with enemies was _once_. Once. And Ethan and Aidan are totally gone.”

“Yeah, they are. After Mister Argent kicked their butts, they are” Stiles answers, and Scott throws his hands up, seeming to give up.

“You know what? Tell whatever version you want to tell to these guys, because they’ll see soon enough that things aren’t like that at all. I have to go home, mom is coming in time for dinner today, and Isaac and I are cooking” he finishes with a bright smile, nodding at the new boys before going to the door.

“My version is the best one, anyway” Stiles whispers at them.

“I can still hear you, you know” Derek states, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Totally know that, thanks” the kid answers without missing a beat, and Thomas can see by the way Minho tries not to full on laugh, loudly, that he likes Stiles.

It’s pretty hard not to, actually. Maybe it’s a bit narcissistic of him, being _him_ from another universe, but Stiles is pretty great.

“You should call your dad. We have to fill him in, and then decide what we’re going to do about living arrangements. I mean, as soon as the house is done they can stay with me, but until then…” he trails off and Stiles is already nodding.

“No, I know. I’ll talk to dad, they can bunk up with us, there’s room if we squeeze a bit, and really, much easier to explain some long lost cousin who looks a lot like me and his friend, than explain how a guy who looks a _lot_ like me is staying with you.”

“Wait, you guys are telling us we can stay _here_?” Minho asks, and Thomas is kind of taken aback by that too.

“Well, yeah. What did you guys think, that I’d summon you here and then demand you leave? No way! Stay for a while, then if you want to, you guys can leave, but you have to, you know, finish school first. Go to college. So you can actually have a future and a career, because running around with wolves isn’t one.”

“Good to see your dad’s speech finally stuck with you” Derek tells Stiles, kissing the top of his head and heading for the kitchen.

Stiles starts telling them how they have a system now, and how it’ll be easy to pass them up as friends and family because his dad is the Sheriff, but, really, Thomas and Minho are barely listening.

Here’s this guy who saved them from their awful world, and he is willing to help them along, sure his dad will do the same, with a bunch of friends who, if his word is to be trusted, are going to help them too.

Thomas _likes_ this world. He likes it very much.

And by the bright smile on Minho’s face, he likes it too.

**X**

“Another you, Stiles? From an Alternative Universe? Seriously? Werewolves and mythical creatures weren’t good enough, you had to go and find the TARDIS?”

The Sheriff is staring at his son, who’s sitting on one of the kitchen stools, looking down and properly chastised, but the man doesn’t seem to be buying it.

He looks tough – Police Uniform, a gun strapped to his hip, commanding stance in his step, and yet his eyes are telling a whole different story with the way they are shining, and also the way he looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.

How much trouble does Stoles get into, anyway, for his father to just _accept_ the whole story Stiles told him just now without even questioning its veracity – just shaking his head at his kid’s choices?

“Won’t that cause a Paradox, anyway? You and another version of you staying in the same place, same universe?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you watch Doctor Who” the kid mumbles, still looking down.

Derek and the Sheriff trade a look and Derek goes further into the kitchen – Thomas has a feeling he’s hiding so he can laugh in peace.

“And no. It won’t cause any trouble, that’s not how it works. We’re not talking sci-fi and Paradoxes here, we’re talking magic. My intent was to bring them – _me_ – to safety. If it wasn’t safe, they wouldn’t be here.”

“And they don’t want to go back?” the man asks, looking at them this time. Minho shakes his head and Thomas does the same.

“Definitely not. I mean, we don’t have to stay if you don’t want us to. Really, Stiles has done more than enough, we can figure things out here” Minho says, and Thomas nods, agreeing.

“Nonsense” the man answers, “I can’t leave two teenage boys to fend for themselves. Plus, if you are actually a version of _him_ ” he points to Stiles, “you’ll be in trouble soon enough and you’ll need help. I’m already used to it, might as well help you boys. You can stay with us – maybe we can say they are… your cousin and his friend, who’ve come to do their Senior year of school here.”

“You sure cousin is the best way to go?” Stiles asks, “I mean, he looks just like me” he points out.

Derek and the Sheriff turn to look at him, and Thomas fidgets a bit.

“Nah, he looks older than you” Derek tells him.

“And much more manly” the sheriff completes.

“Hey! I’m manly!”

“Sure you are, kid. Especially when you call your boyfriend to come and rescue from something, that’s _very_ manly.”

Derek starts laughing, but stops with one look from Stiles.

“There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”

“Never said there were. I’m glad you actually call when you need. Except when you are summoning another you, apparently.”

Stiles sighs, and the lighter mood seems to vanish.

“Look, I’m not apologizing anymore. They needed help. I don’t know what they’ve been through, I don’t know where they come from, but they needed help, and I helped them, and I’m glad I did it. So that’s the end of it.”

The older men nod at him, and he finally gets up from his stool.

“So, you guys want to go home now, settle in a bit?”

Thomas and Minho nod at him, and the Sheriff leads the way out of the apartment.

Stiles stays behind, and his dad sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes as the kid kisses his boyfriend goodbye.

“Let’s go home” the man says when Stiles gets in the elevator with them.

Home.

Now, that’s a concept that neither of them is used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, you can find me on [Tumblr](http://darkjan.tumblr.com/)


	4. Home is where WICKED isn’t

**Good that**

**Home is where WICKED isn’t**

After a brief discussion as to why the boys would be going with Stiles in his Jeep and not in the Sheriff’s cruiser, the three teens went to Stiles’s car as the Sheriff headed back to the Station, telling them he’d be home later that night.

They get in, and Stiles takes a deep breath.

“Look,” he starts, as soon as he sees the Sheriff’s cruiser disappear around the corner, “I really am sorry if I took you away from your loved ones, or from the things you held dear back where you were.”

“Stiles, you don’t have to apologize” Thomas tells him calmly, as Minho observes the two of them carefully, “We… Our lives, it was… bad. The past year was calm and easy, but it still, it wasn’t… good. We’re grateful. We don’t blame you.”

“And we didn’t leave anyone behind either” Minho adds, his voice firm, “Friends, sure, but Thomas is my best friend, and he’s the one I’d miss if he came here without me. We won’t miss anyone else.”

“Things here aren’t exactly a picnic either” Stiles warns them, turning on the car, “As soon as trouble comes, you have all the right to just, you know, up and leave if you want to. Things have been calm for the past three months, and nothing’s been as bad as it was last year, but you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I want you to stay, I want to help, but you don’t have to.”

Thomas nods at him, understanding that the kid is only trying to make sure they know he’s not going to ask them anything for his help.

And strangely enough, Thomas believes him – maybe because they are fundamentally the same person, maybe because he’s confused and tired after being literally dragged into another universe, but he believes him.

He looks at Minho who nods at him briefly – he agrees. They’ll stay and see how this works out.

Stiles points out a few things in his town – stores and places to eat, coffee shops, movie theatres, grocery store. The town isn’t big, and it’s… comfortable. Easy, clean. The people on the streets are laughing and talking, reaching out to each other easily – healthy, happy people.

It’s a sight to see.

Stiles’s cellphone beeps as he stops at a traffic light and he reads something on it, typing a reply quickly.

“Derek’s just letting me know he’s calling a meeting later tonight, when we’ll explain everything to the rest of the pack. You’ll like them, I think. We can get you settled in at home, and then they’ll head over there.”

“Sounds good” Thomas tells him, feeling tired – in his time, they’d be getting ready to sleep about now.

“Dad can probably work something out with the school so you can enroll in our year, if you can keep up, I mean. What grade were you on?” he asks as he turns a corner into a less busy part of town – long lawns full of green grass with beautiful houses, trees and dogs and kids.

It looks like a dream, Thomas never saw anything like this, and if the way Minho keeps looking around is any indication, he hasn’t either.

“We’ve never been to school.”

Stiles looks at Thomas then, his eyes calculating.

“That sounds bad” he comments, looking ahead again.

“You have no idea” Minho mutters in the back seat, but Stiles hears anyway.

“I won’t pry. You have no idea how difficult is going to be for me _not_ to ask a million questions, but I won’t pry” he tells them, and maybe tells himself too, biting his lips, as if trying to keep all the words in.

“So, you big on asking questions too, huh?” Minho asks, his tone teasing, and Thomas rolls his eyes, knowing what’s coming, “When Thomas and I met all he did was ask uncomfortable questions, never really stopped bugging people to tell him things.”

“Yeah, I guess we do share that trait. I just keep poking at things until I figure them out” he shrugs a bit, a small smile on his lips, “Got me into trouble a few times, but also got me some good friends and the hottest boyfriend ever.”

Thomas is surprised by this, because up until that moment he had been thinking boyfriend was some kind of slang here, like shank and greenie.

“So you and that guy Derek…” Minho starts and Stiles smirks.

“Are together, yeah. Took us forever, but we’re good now. Nothing that saving each other’s lives a couple times didn’t solve.”

“I’ll say” Minho mutters, and Thomas frowns, not really getting it.

“This is it” Stiles announces, stopping in front of a house – it’s simple but well taken care of. He parks and they get out, following him to the door and then inside.

“You guys will have to stay with me, in my room – we don’t really have a guest room, but we can make it work. It’s not a lot of space, and if you guys aren’t used to sharing a room, we can figure things out later.”

“It’s… great, Stiles” Thomas stops him as they follow the kid to his room on the second floor, “We used to share a house with literally a hundred other people. Sharing a room with you won’t be anything we’re not used to.”

Stiles nods and then mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like _I won’t ask_.

“Look, you said you were calling your friends over? We’ll tell them everything then, okay?” Minho tells him and Stiles smiles at him in response.

Minho smiles back – not a smirk, but a real smile. Thomas thinks he’s actually _never_ seen Minho smile for as long as they’ve known each other.

“Thanks. I really don’t want to be a pain, I just have a hard time not knowing stuff.”

“We get it. Being kept in the dark sucks” Minho agrees.

“So, you guys saw the house. Make yourselves at home, if you need anything just ask, okay? I have no idea what being pulled through universes does to you, but maybe you want to rest before dinner? I’m going to try and make something healthy, ‘cause I think dad’s coming home in time to eat today, so… Bathroom is through here, the bed is up for grabs till we figure out how to get three beds here. If you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen. I’ll leave you guys to, you know, talk to each other in private” he comments with a smirk, knowing that as soon as he’s out of the room they’ll talk about their situation for real.

The kid leaves, closing the door behind him, and Minho sets on the bed, while Thomas sits on the floor, his back to the wall.

The room is not huge, but it’s big enough. There are posters on the walls of what he assumes are famous people, a computer and printer, a whole lot of books, some looking _really_ old lying about. Mostly they seem to center around werewolves and mythical creatures – which makes sense, seeing as in this world werewolves _exist_.

“So… do we believe this, or are we going to try and analyze this as a test from WICKED again?”

“I don’t think even WICKED would try to throw us a variable that contains alternative universes and _werewolves_ , Thomas.”

Thomas snorts at that.

“I think you’re right. It’s so absurd it can only be true” he stops for a minute, staring at Minho, smiling slowly, not really believing for a second. So far he’s been so busy trying to grasp the concept of being _here_ that he didn’t realize what _being_ here could mean, “We’re free” he whispers, looking at his best friend, and sees he has the same look on his face, realization, elation, relief.

“We’re free” he repeats.

They actually _are_ free.

**X**

They don’t even try to sleep – too wired all of a sudden by the prospect of being free to do whatever they want with their lives for the very first time. They talk a bit more, and then start making their way downstairs, to join Stiles in the kitchen.

“Are you sure you’re supposed to…”

“Derek, stop bugging me.”

“Stiles, you’re doing the sauce _wrong_!”

“I’m not doing it wrong, I know what I’m doing, I’ve done this a thousand times before. Now either stop bothering me, or get the hell out of my kitchen!”

“Shouldn’t you have a rolling pin in your hands when you say that? _Ouch_!”

“I warned you.”

When the two of them get to kitchen, they see Derek glaring at Stiles, who has a hand full of spoons, and seems to be throwing them at Derek.

“Oh, hey, guys” he greets with a smile, distracted for a moment, and Derek rushes by him, getting the spoons out of his hand, “Hey!”

“No weapons for you.”

“Stop bugging me, Derek, I mean it” the kid tries to look tough, but truth is that he looks a lot like an angry kitten frowning like that, and Thomas exchanges a look with Minho, both of them containing a laugh – just like Derek is doing, “Dinner should be ready soon.”

“But it’ll take some time to actually have food, because he’s doing the sauce all wrong.”

“OUT!” Stiles shouts, pointing to the living room, and Derek goes surprisingly easy, as Stiles glares at him. When Derek is out of sight he sighs, inviting the two boys in, “He does that every time, he knows that if he annoys me enough I’ll kick him out and he won’t have to help.”

“Why do you kick him out, then?” Minho asks, getting into the kitchen and looking around.

Stiles shrugs.

“I guess I’m just glad he’s willingly doing something just for fun” he states quietly and then grins at them, “You two can sit down, though. I’m almost done, and contrary to what Derek said, I’m doing it right. Dad just called that he’ll be home in about fifteen minutes and the rest of the pack should be here in an hour.”

“Good that” Thomas says, and Stiles frowns a bit, clearly confused with the slang, before turning back to the stove, stirring things. A few moments later Derek gets in the kitchen again, picking up plates and silverware.

“I’ll set up the table in the dining room, I don’t think we’ll all fit in here.”

“Okay.”

They smile at each other, and Thomas feels something he’s not used to feeling – envy. He swallows drily and averts his eyes, forcing himself to relax – it’s not Stiles’s fault that he had to deal with a mountain of crap and Stiles has such an amazing life. Stiles saved him, he should be grateful, not envious.

Stiles keeps talking as he finishes with the pasta and sauce he’s been making, telling them about a game called Lacrosse, and how they’ll find a way to test them for school before the year begins, and how lucky they are to have gotten here during the summer.

Minho seems to be hanging on his every word as Thomas lets his mind wander a bit, thinking of the possibilities. They can do anything now. Be anything.

It’s terrifying just as much as it is wonderful.

Finally, the door slams open and they hear a greeting.

“I’m home!”

“Good, wash up and then come down, dinner’s ready” Stiles answers his dad, who nods and smiles at his son before going upstairs.

The kid grabs a pot of sauce to bring to the table and asks Minho and Thomas help to bring the drinks and the rest of the food to the table. They follow him to the living room, where Derek is already seated and fiddling with his phone.

Thomas sets the things he’s been carrying on the table and looks around – there are a lot of pictures on the walls, mostly of Stiles and his dad, a few with Scott and a brunette woman with a kind smile.

One of the pictures, though, is with a little Stiles grinning broadly at the camera, his front teeth missing, and a woman behind him, her long hair flying in the wind.

She looks _exactly_ like the woman from his dreams, his memories.

“That’s my mom” Stiles tells him, making him jump a bit, startled.

“I… I don’t really _remember_ her, but I’ve had dreams with my mom. She looks like her” he tells Stiles quietly.

“You don’t remember her at all?”

“Not really. I just know that the sickness that took my dad took her too. I was sent away before she died though.”

He hears Stiles take in a shuddering breath before the kid’s voice is heard again, quieter, sadder than he sounded until now.

“She died when I was eight. Her name was Claudia. She got sick too, and… I miss her.”

Thomas doesn’t really respond to that, because he doesn’t know what to say – do they miss the same woman? Was she caring here too? Did she take care of Stiles as if he was the single most important thing in the world?

The Sheriff saves him from having to say anything, and they sit down to eat.

Minho and he exchange a look, watching the others carefully – truth is that they’ve never eaten anywhere but camping and among kids their own age.

Stiles, though, doesn’t seem to have a problem with etiquette, so that puts their minds at ease a bit.

“So, you boys okay with staying?” the Sheriff asks them, and Thomas nods at the man.

“If it’s no problem, sir.”

“No, not at all. I mean, I’ll want to know where you came from, why this… spell Stiles used brought _you_ two here, but no problem at all.”

“Thank you, sir” he answers, “We’ll tell you everything when the… pack?” he hesitates at the word, but Stiles’s father just nods, obviously used to it, “when they come later, so we’ll just have to explain once.”

The Sheriff nods, and Thomas starts eating some more, as Minho nods back at the Sheriff.

They change the subject, and Thomas takes this time to observe their dynamics – it’s oddly familiar, the way the three of them interact. Derek seems more guarded now that the Sheriff is here, and the man clearly isn’t his biggest fan, but he seems to make an effort at making Derek feel welcome with him and Stiles.

Stiles looks like he doesn’t notice the slight strain there, but, looking a bit more carefully, Thomas notices that he does realize what is going on, he just doesn’t take a side, letting things play out and interfering only when needed and in a way that the two other man don’t even seem to notice.

Stiles is sneaky and smart, and Thomas finds himself smiling at him briefly when their eyes meet. Stiles returns the smile and keeps eating as if nothing’s happened.

They eat and put the dishes in the kitchen just in time for the doorbell to ring.

“I’ll get it” Derek announces, going to the door.

Stiles, the Sheriff, Thomas and Minho go to the living room, and wait.

Scott comes in with a tall, blond boy who smiles at them briefly and then shakes the Sheriff’s hand – obviously Scott filled him in on the basics as he doesn’t look too freaked out about their being in Stiles’s house.

They don’t have a chance to talk as the doorbell rings again and Derek goes to answer – Stiles turns to them then, looking, for the first time since they arrived, really worried.

“Do not take anything Jackson says to you personally, okay? He’s a douche, and that’s that.”

Before they can answer, in comes a beautiful girl with red hair and a blond boy who looks like he thinks he owns the world. The blond sneers at them, and Stiles is already glaring at the boy.

Derek, when he comes to the living room, is frowning and looks like he wants to hit the blond boy.

It doesn’t look too good.

“Is Allison coming?” Stiles asks, and the tall boy who came with Scott nods quickly, just in time for the doorbell to ring again. He gets up to answer, smiling briefly as he passes Thomas and Minho and comes back with a tall, beautiful girl with dark hair and a kind smile.

Everyone takes a seat, and Thomas sees Stiles taking a deep breath.

“Okay. I don’t know what you guys already know, so I’ll just tell you from the beginning, okay?” There are a few nods, and Stiles keeps going, “Earlier today I was trying to practice some defensive stuff with the Spark. I kind of got… distracted, for a bit, and I think I ended up trying to save us, I and Scott, actually, from the very worst that could happened to us. Except I wasn’t specific with it, and I think, and Deaton agrees, that I ended up saving me from the very worst that could happen _anywhere_. Including an alternative universe, from where I pulled Minho and Thomas.”

“That’s why he looks so much like you? I mean, older and… no offense, but a bit meaner” the girl called Allison asks with an apologetic smile, and Thomas nods at them.

“None taken” he answers.

“So what you’re saying is that because you screwed up, we have to live with two of you?” the blond boy, who can _only_ be Jackson, for the warning that Stiles gave them earlier, says, sneering at Stiles, “That’s great, two clowns in this pack, our standards are really low.”

“Blondie, we come from a place where we ate guys like you for breakfast. Shut your shucking mouth about Stiles, or I’ll show you _exactly_ how much of a clown I can be” Minho tells the boy, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes burning in anger.

Thomas is taken aback at the fierceness coming from his best friend – and so does everyone else.

“Shut up, Jackson” Derek tells the boy when he looks like he’s going to answer, and then turns to glare at Scott, who’s frowning.

Jackson growls a bit – _actually_ growls – but quiets down.

“As I was saying before the jerk started talking, I can’t send them back. They are here to stay, and dad already agreed to let them stay here.”

“As soon as the house is done they can stay with me” Derek adds, and Thomas feels so very grateful for all of them – well, except for the blond jerk.

“Where did you guys come from, though?” the red head asks, “I mean, Stiles said he pulled you from the worst version of him, and that _has_ to be pretty bad to beat this. No offense, we’ve been doing great this summer, but can we please stop and think about the beginning of last year? The dance, the Alphas, the Darach, the Nemeton, the Kitsune, Peter, the Vampires? How bad is the worst?”

“That’s Lydia, by the way” Stiles adds, smiling at the girl who smiles back at him, “Jackson is the one we’ll be having for breakfast tomorrow” he continues, smiling at Minho when he says that – Thomas can _feel_ Minho preening by his side – “You’ve met Scott already, the blond by his side is Isaac and the girl beside him is Allison.”

Thomas nods at them and turns to Minho again, who sighs.

“The very worst place where this shank exists” he starts, slapping Thomas in the back, “Is a place where, well, we were experiments from a multi-government partnership science program. We were basically lab rats.”

“Whoa, what?” Stiles asks, his eyes large in his face.

“I guess that in our world, we are set in the future. A few hundred years from now, the sun flares got worse and worse, and then, one day, they got so bad they literally burned half the Earth away. Where the countries on the Equator Line now exist is a great desert, scorching hot, no life can exist there” Thomas starts, taking in a deep breath, “The flares were bad, people died left and right, the climate went crazy, with changes all the time, nothing else could be predicted right – so many people died” he trails off a bit, and can sense the fear in the room.

“God, no wonder you were the ones to come here” Scott comments, “I mean, if that’s the way your world is, I can see why that is the worst that could happen.”

“That’s not the worst part” Minho comments, looking down.

“Population on Earth was out of control, we had too little room and too many people, and a few governments leaked a virus, to help, well, control this problem. The manmade virus was called the Flare, and it was incurable. It starts eating at your brain, eventually you go crazy, forget what makes you human, stop being yourself. The problem is that they had no control over it, and the Cranks, the people infected, started growing in number. An alliance of all the governments still standing created WICKED, a scientific research partnership, whose goal was to find a cure for the Flare.  We were taken in as kids, I don’t remember much of my past, but I was really young when they took me, because we are immune to the disease. They threw us at this… Maze, to run tests, study patterns in our brains, try and analyze why we were immunes, replicate it in a cure. It was…” he takes another deep breath, not wanting to go into it, not yet.

“It was hell. We escaped, and then we escaped again, and then one more time, but we were never really free. Finally we found a place where we could be at peace, there was no cure for the Flare, and apparently, we were safe in this island” Minho tells them.

“When you… called to us, my… Brenda, someone who had helped us escape WICKED, told me it was all a part of the plan. We were in that island, that safe island, because it was a failsafe in case the cure didn’t work – we were all immune there, and we would be able to preserve the human race. Even when we were safe and secure and away from WICKED, they still won. We were talking about leaving if we could when, well, we came here” Thomas concludes and Stiles nods, looking down.

“It makes sense. I mean, you guys are from the _future_ in that universe. I could have summoned you at any time in your timelines, because our timelines never coexisted. But I did it when you… well, when you gave up hope.”

There’s silence in the room after that, as the kids absorb what’s been told. The Sheriff is the first one to recover, sighing deeply and staring at Thomas and Minho.

“I hope you choose to stay here. We have our fair share of trouble, and I can only guess that with two Stiles things there’ll be double the crazy, but we have a home, and these kids would die for each other” he looks around the room, and everyone has a slight smile on their faces.

“Except for Jackson” Lydia adds with a sweet smile, “He’ll run away and come back when there’s no more trouble.”

“And that’s my cue to leave” the Sheriff tells them, winking, “I’ll be home by eleven, do _not_ go out again and if you do, let me know. Derek, I want you gone when I come home, and I mean it this time” he frowns at the man, who looks down, blushing a bit.

“Yes, sir.”

“That was _once_ , dad, Jesus Christ!”

“Behave!” the Sheriff tells them before leaving.

“I’m really curious about this Alternative Universe thing, I mean, it’s possible, we all know the theories, but to have living proof” Lydia says, almost as if she doesn’t think the rest of the people in the room can hear her.

“Lydia, let them rest for tonight, okay? You heard how bad it was, they need to sleep and settle before you can try and figure out how to take over one more universe besides ours.”

The girls huffs at Stiles and throws her hair back.

“Fine. We’ll leave, but I really want to talk with you guys” she tells them – in a threat or a warning, Thomas can’t really tell, “Allison, can you give me ride?”

“I can take you” Jackson offers, but Lydia ignores him as Allison nods at her.

The girls get ready to leave, and Lydia tells everyone goodbye, hugging Stiles last, making Jackson sneer at the boy again.

Thomas looks to the side and sees Minho is practically praying the boy says something bad, just so he’ll have an excuse to beat him up.

Jackson is next to leave, with a muttered bye to Derek, and then Scott and Isaac get ready to leave too, with warnings to call if anything else happens.

“I guess I should go, let you guys rest” Derek says, staring at Thomas and Minho for a moment and then at Stiles, who’s still sitting in his armchair.

“We’ll be fine, I swear.”

“I know. Just, no more spells, okay? No more craziness, Stiles, I swear to God” he trails off and Stiles smiles fondly at him.

“Don’t worry, sourwolf.”

He gets up to take his boyfriend to the door, apparently not finding it appropriate to do it in front of his new guests.

A few minutes later he comes back, his hair a mess and his clothes a bit rumpled.

“So… I think we should actually go to sleep. I didn’t want to say anything in front of those guys, but I’m kind of beat because of the spell.”

Thomas and Minho agree and they take turns having showers, and then outing on some t-shirts and sweat pants from Stiles to sleep.

They make do with two inflatable beds on the floor, after insisting that Stiles keep his own bed, and lay down to sleep.

The last thought Thomas has before finally falling asleep is that this is actually real, and they’ll still be here when he wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, you can find me on [Tumblr](http://darkjan.tumblr.com/)


	5. There comes a time when you just have to give in to the weird

**Good that**

**There comes a time when you just have to give in to the weird**

Thomas opens his eyes and sees darkness. He’s not tired anymore – actually, he feels as if he slept for a whole week, and yet there’s no sun coming through the windows, no calls for wake up to start the day, for work and food and building.

His eyes slowly adjust to the faintest of lights and he looks around – by his side, on the mattress on the floor, Minho is still sleeping. On his other side, on the bed, Stiles is asleep, a hand on the ground, half of his leg almost falling down, his breathing calm and slow.

It’s real.

He closes his eyes slowly, breathing in and out very slowly, calming himself down. It’s real, and they are still here and they are never going back.

This feeling will never stop being wonderful.

When he opens his eyes again, he sees Minho staring at him, smirking, as if knows what Thomas was doing, and he feels the impulse to do something childish, like stick his tongue out at him, but he refrains. He nods towards Stiles and Minho’s smirk softens, turns into a smile, a small one, and Thomas feels that weird envy again, but squishes it as soon as it rears its ugly head.

He considers what they should do, maybe get up and start breakfast or do something to help, or maybe just stay quiet until Stiles wakes up, but they are saved from having to choose when they hear a knock on the door.

“Stiles, are you up yet?” the Sheriff’s voice comes from the door, and Stiles groans.

“No!”

“Are you awake?”

“NO!”

“You asked me not to let you sleep the whole summer away, so this is me, getting you up. I won’t be home for lunch, but I’ll be back by six. Are you awake now?”

“No! Eat salad.”

“Sure. Take care, kids!”

And then they hear the steps down the stairs.

Stiles sighs deeply and turns around, towards Thomas on the floor, and falls down ungracefully in a heap.

“Shit.”

“You always this graceful, or are you putting up a show because we’re here?” Minho teases him, sitting up on his own bed, as their host finds his way out of the sheets that fell with him.

“Not very good with mornings” the boy replies, giving up and just sitting on the floor, “Being up for three days straight I can do, waking up in the morning not so much. You guys sleep okay?”

“Never better” Minho answers and Thomas nods along.

“Me too.”

“Good, good” he looks around the room, sleep clear in his eyes, and picks up his phone, checking it for messages, apparently, “Huh, Derek is free for lunch today, what do you guys think?”

“Uhm, what?” Thomas asks, confused for a moment.

“Lunch. Derek is letting me know he’s free for it today, so we could eat with him – Oh, we could have a picnic at the preserve! It’s awesome there, even though I almost died there, like, five times.”

“You almost died there?” Minho asks, his voice disbelieving.

“Well, you see, running with a werewolf pack nowadays is pretty safe. At the beginning, it was hard. Just, really, think about it, would I be trying to save, well, _me_ if things were always fun?”

“Guess not” the other boy answers quietly.

“But, hey, don’t get upset or anything, really. As far as I can tell you still have it great here. No solar flares, no scientific experiment, just, you know, a vampire or five, a few zombie murdering uncles, some crazed Kitsunes” he pauses for a moment, seeming to be considering something, “And Jackson.”

“What is that guy’s deal anyway?”

“Well, he used to be, you know, a real jerk at school. Always picking on me and Scott and stuff, and then Scott got turned into a werewolf, and started dating Allison, and Jackson wanted it too – the boost in popularity, being that good at Lacrosse. So he asked for the bite.”

“Is it that easy? Just… get bitten?” Thomas questions and Stiles shakes his head, his face going dark.

“No. Because only an Alpha can turn you and sometimes your body won’t take the bite. Or if you’re Lydia, you’ll have some creature blood in you and it won’t work. And if you’re Jackson, you’ll have so many unsolved issues you’ll turn into a Kanima – a lizard sort of monster who’ll seek a master and kill on demand.”

“Crap” Minho exclaims, and Stiles nods along.

“Yeah, that sums it up pretty well. We didn’t even know it was Jackson, really, just knew something was killing a whole lot of people. Derek had just turned Alpha too, he was making mistakes left and right, and things were… bad. My dad didn’t know about the whole crazy stuff going on, even lost his job for a bit, but then Lydia actually managed to save him. We all thought he was dead, and she saved him.”

“That’s pretty amazing” Thomas says, a little awe on his voice.

“Yeah, it is. Except he left town, like, two days after being cured from his lizard ways and turned into a proper werewolf. Spent last year in London, and didn’t even call. Then, at the beginning of the Summer, he just strolls right into town, pretending everything is the same, as if Lydia didn’t have _another_ murdering boyfriend in the meanwhile, as if we were still, you know, stuck in the way things were before” he pauses, gets up and opens the curtains and the windows, “I used to be in love with Lydia. When she saved him, I guess things changed between us. We’ve been through a lot of crap together, and when Derek came back after he took his sister home, things changed for us too, and Lydia became one of my best friends. When Jackson came back, he mistook our friendship for something else, and he’s been a jerk about it ever since.”

“That’s just stupid” Thomas comments, but Stiles shrugs.

“I don’t really care, to be honest. I mean, Derek is my boyfriend, Scott is my best friend and he’s the Alpha, Lydia is my friend and Isaac and Allison actually like me. I think he’s just so immature that he feels threatened and doesn’t know how to deal with that, so he lashes out.”

Minho stares at him for a moment.

“You thought of that yourself?”

“Nah” Stiles answers with a grin, “Allison explained it all to me, but it annoys the hell out of him when I bring it up. So, who’s for some breakfast?”

They change – again, the boys borrow some of Stiles clothes, and then get to the kitchen to eat something.

“So… what do we do?” Minho asks finally when Stiles is putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

“What do you mean?”

“For the day? What work do we have to do, how does this work?”

Stiles stares at them for a moment, as if he’s realizing something.

“You guys actually had to _earn_ everything you had, didn’t you? Like, no parents, no family, no one to support you, locked up in a Maze… How did you even eat?”

“We had a system. Every Glader had a job, we replicated it in the Island. Everyone tests out where they want to be, and then they work, to keep everyone safe and fed and healthy” Minho explains, and Stiles nods along, looking thoughtful.

“Well, you see, life can suck here too, but not that much. I mean, one day you’ll have to work and earn your keep, but right now, you’re teenagers, and it’s Summer holiday, so what we are going to do is hang out with Derek, have a picnic in the Preserve and then I’m going to show you how amazing Lacrosse is. You guys are going to have _fun_ , and that’s it.”

Stiles leaves the kitchen at that, looking like he’s on a mission, and Thomas and Minho trade a bewildered look.

They can have fun.

Right?

**X**

Stiles ends up calling Derek soon after that, setting up a plan for a picnic around noon – Derek tells him Isaac is coming too, and the boy texts Lydia, to check if she wants to be there.

“You really don’t have to answer Lydia’s questions” he warns them, as he tries to find the keys to his Jeep so they can go out and buy some food – and a basket, because Stiles seems determined to _have_ a picnic in a basket, “She’s going to keep bugging you, but just tell her no if it makes you uncomfortable, okay?”

“Why do you think she’ll be the one asking questions?” Thomas has to ask, because there are plenty of people who could decide to _bug them_ , as Stiles calls it.

“Well, Isaac is pretty private, he hates it when people try and pry into his life, so he won’t do the same to you. Allison likes to learn by observing, like her dad taught her – they are hunters, by the way. They used to be werewolf hunters, now they are more of a Supernatural style, I’m never really sure – but she’s not one to ask a lot of questions unless she has to. Jackson will be dying to know anything but he’ll pretend he doesn’t care, so you won’t think you matter to him or something. Scott just has this way of accepting people as they are, so that’s not a problem either.”

“What about Derek?” Minho questions on their way to the car.

“Derek… is a different experience. He’s been through a lot more than any of us, he has a lot or guilt and a lot of trust issues, and if you think for a moment that he didn’t spend all of last night parked outside my window, listening for trouble, you’re mistaken. Derek trusts no one – he doesn’t even trust people to tell him the truth when he asks them something, so he won’t ask anything, because he’ll only believe you when you prove yourself to him. The whole asking something would be pointless, really.”

“You’re quite the opposite, then” Thomas comments, “I mean, we got here yesterday, and you’re letting us stay in your house. Don’t you think that’s trusting too much, too fast?”

Stiles shrugs as best as he can while driving.

“I’m always right” he states.

Minho snorts at that.

“Humble.”

“Not like that, I’m just… I’m always right about these things guys, I always know. I knew it when Scott got bitten that he had become a werewolf before even he did. I knew it when Derek wasn’t the evil one at the beginning, even though I wanted to believe he was, I knew I could never trust Derek’s uncle, I knew it when one of our classmates was controlling Jackson and killing people for revenge, I knew it when some of the killings from last year were not the Alpha Pack’s fault, I knew it when there were patterns to those murders, I just knew it. After a while, you just learn to trust your gut and go with it, because there’s not much left but do it.”

“Good that” Thomas replies, looking down, remembering how many times he did the same thing – forgot about the evidence, the rules, the orders, and just did what he felt was right.

“Anyway, enough with the bad place talk, let’s think about lunch.”

They head into a small grocery store, with an elderly lady at the register who seems to know Stiles by name.

“Hello, Mrs. Andrews” he greets with a grin, and the woman smiles back at him.

“Hello, Stiles. Keeping out of trouble, dear?”

“Always, Mrs. Andrews!”

They hear the woman actually _snort_ as they walk further into the store.

“So, you’re a trouble maker” Minho tells him in a teasing tone.

“Trouble finder? It’s just… I’m the Sheriff’s kid, it’s not that I get into trouble a lot, it’s just that people notice it more.”

“Your friends are werewolves” the Asian boy deadpans, and Stiles glares at him – Minho smirks right back, and Thomas is a bit disconcerted, he’s not used to Minho being this playful.

“Yeah, well, I’m still not that bad.”

They keep up a bit of conversation as Stiles browses the aisles, picking up different foods and putting them back on the shelves or dumping them into their cart. After a while he decides they are done, and gets to the register. The woman rings their purchases and as Stiles pays, she looks at Thomas and lets out a small gasp of surprise.

“Oh my, but this one looks just like you!”

“Oh, this is my cousin, Thomas. That’s his friend Minho, they are going to be with us for a while.”

“Don’t let him get you into trouble” she frowns at them, and Thomas smiles at the woman as Stiles glares a bit.

“We won’t, ma’am.”

They leave and put the bags in the car.

“Why does she think you’re such a bad seed?”

Stiles’s face seems to darken for a moment and he looks down, getting in the car and closing the door with a bit more force than should be necessary.

“Last year things were different. My dad didn’t know about the werewolf stuff, I had to lie to him a lot, and I was always in trouble. Scott’s dad is an FBI agent, he works for the government, and he came here to investigate the murders. For a while there, there was talk that we were suspects. Me and Scott and Derek and Isaac. We were cleared, of course, and the guy never got anything, but it stuck. My dad knows I’m not bad, he knows even when I’m in trouble I’m only trying to do the right thing, but the rest of the people don’t know that, and it’s not like I can advertise the werewolf story around. Before the bite, Scott and I did get into a lot of trouble, and eleven times out of ten I was the one instigating it, so I can’t really fault them for their logic.”

“Sorry about that” Minho says, Thomas nodding along, but the other boy just shrugs it off.

“I don’t really care all that much. Dad knows I’m not a criminal, my friends do it too, and that’s it. I only wish they wouldn’t be so crappy to Derek.”

“Because you’re dating?”

“Not only that, but that too. Derek came into town with a bad attitude and then he was accused of murder _twice_. He was cleared, but then he started hanging out with us, and, well, not really good for him either. I’m just glad he actually found work a few months back, people here are nice enough to give everyone a second chance – they just don’t quite forget why you need it, you know?”

“I feel like we should do for you what you did for us, you know, the whole I won’t pry thing? But we were literally raised in the Jungle and I’m not sure I have that much politeness in me” Minho says and Stiles snorts, looking at him in the rearview mirror.

“It can’t have been that traumatizing for you, that whole experience, if you’re joking about it.”

“I got a whole year to get over it.”

Stiles is quiet then, doesn’t really answer, and an uncomfortable silence weights in the car. They get back home, and the teen sets camp in the kitchen. Minho and Thomas looks at each other and follow him, not quite knowing what to do – they really have very poor social skills all in all.

“Derek’s story is his own to tell, and I really don’t think he’d share it with you – maybe he never will, even if you guys stay in town forever. That’s just who he is. I think the only one who _knows_ the whole thing it’s me, and that’s why I’m the boyfriend, and the rest of them are his friends, but from a distance. Let’s just put it this way – Scott is the Alpha, but if you didn’t notice last night, we all still look to Derek so he can have the final word. If he wanted, he could be the Alpha again, and he and Scott could make it work, but he doesn’t _want_ to. Because he doesn’t trust himself to make the right choices. I don’t get angry because of me, when someone says something like the lady at the store, I couldn’t care less, to be honest, but he does. And it drives me mad, because he’s a great person, he just got a _lot_ of bad stuff happen to him in a very short while, and he made poor choices, but who hasn’t? He thought he was doing what was best.”

Thomas swallows drily at that, and starts helping Stiles make sandwiches, Minho watching them from the doorway.

“I get that” he tells Stiles quietly, and the boy turns to look at him briefly, but doesn’t say anything, leaving him to decide whether to keep on talking or not, “The experiment, the research we were put through, I helped them make it. I helped them design the whole thing. I and… a girl, we were vital to it, and there’s nothing in the world that can erase the evil I’ve done. They took away my memories, by my own orders, and when given the chance to get them back, I refused, because I didn’t know if I could live with myself _remembering_ it” he stops again, looking at Stiles who stops separating bread and spreading mayonnaise on it to look back at him, “So, I get it.”

“Thanks” Stiles answers quietly, and gets back to work.

It doesn’t take long for the boy to get back to his earlier disposition, talking about food and school, funny stories about how they all met, or how much he spent on one of Lydia’s birthdays, back when he was still in love with her, but the thing that sticks out to Thomas, out of all of it, is that this isn’t the perfect universe he had been thinking up until now.

He’s not disappointed by it: actually, it kind of only makes it more real, more tangible, easier to accept. It’s clear that Stiles and his pack have some darkness in their past, and truth be told, it helps calms him down a bit – if they have their own darkness, then it’ll be easier for them to accept his and Minho’s.

What he is sure of, also, is that he wants to _stay_. He feels right here, and by the way Minho looks relaxed and happy, he does too.

Maybe, _maybe_ , they have finally found their home, weird universe and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, you can find me on [Tumblr](http://darkjan.tumblr.com/)


	6. Game Changer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeeeaaaaaaah, i'm back.
> 
> And I'm sorry.
> 
> I've been having a tough time writing, but now I think I'm back on track.
> 
> Also, it took me this long because I was bent on finishing this whole story before posting the rest of it, and then I realized I HATED where it was going, so I pulled the plug on that,k and decided to go with my gut - which ended up being longer, and more plot-filled than before.
> 
> So, because of that, we won't have just seven chapters, but, you know, a lot.
> 
> Also, a bit of seasons 3 and 4 for Teen Wolf will be sneaking in here, but not a whole lot of canon, mostly the characters.
> 
> Spoilers galore for the Maze Runner Saga, though.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy the change, and stick with me in this weirder, longer version of the story!

**Good that**

**Game Changer**

If Minho was to be completely honest, he’d have to admit he _abhors_ change.

Nothing good comes out of it, ever.

Change is what wiped his memories and dropped him in the Maze for two years. Change is what made it necessary for someone to think of the Maze in the first place. Change is what the Maze did every night, making them trace patterns and try to find a way out even when he knew there wasn’t one. Change brought Teresa and then Aris and then Brenda and Jorge to their midst, causing pain and heartache to his best friend, besides the obvious pain that was already going on.

Change _sucks_.

So when Thomas started freaking _fading_ in front of his eyes, and he felt as if he was being torn apart and put back together, the only thing he could think of was _not again_.

When he woke up to the voice of someone who sounded a whole lot like Thomas, but not quite the same, he kept quiet and listened in, and something within him _knew_ that this wouldn’t be so bad. That this was finally the kind of change that wouldn’t suck so much, that he could, maybe, give himself the chance to hope.

Stiles was strange. Not in a bad way, just… It was like seeing his best friend without the closed off, guilty parts. As if he was lighter somehow, more innocent – or maybe _still_ innocent – and yet he wasn’t naïve or clueless. Stiles knew, obviously, that bad things happen, but he hadn’t quite given up on hope yet, and that made a world of difference.

It’s a bit fascinating for Minho to observe Stiles – the way he talks and moves and thinks, so familiar and yet a whole universe away; and he can’t help but like this kid, _really_ like this kid, a lot. He gets the weird looks Thomas keeps sending him when he smiles at Stiles or laughs at his jokes or encourages his rambling, but it’s good, you know?

He never had anyone, unlike Thomas, who had Teresa and Brenda, and well, even Aris if the heated looks going on there were anything to go by. Maybe it’s impossible to have someone talk inside your head and not be close to them, but he’s never had that.

It’s not like romance didn’t happen around him from time to time. They were, after all, fifty boys, stuck in the middle of a Maze for _two years_. Teenage boys. Not even the death threats that loomed over them nightly could make them stop being _teenage boys_ , and things happened there – probably variables to be analyzed by those shuckholes from WICKED. Newt and Alby were one of the few who actually managed to be together, not die horribly along the way – except Alby got killed anyway after the Changing, and Newt… well, he doesn’t like to think about what could have happened to Newt because every single one of his thoughts goes to dark, horrible places.

But he’s away from all of that now – he’s not in the Glade anymore, he doesn’t have to worry a whole lot about how and when is Thomas going to figure out that Brenda was working with _them_ too and his mind can’t help but wonder.

In a way, he knew, consciously, that he liked Thomas more than he had any of the other boys in the Glade. He felt closer to him, felt like protecting him even though Thomas didn’t really _need_ protection – hell, he had let Thomas join the Runners when he had no previous experience _at all_ , but he also knew he couldn’t _do_ anything about it. He wasn’t really into feelings – they complicated things, and made everything messy, but here… well, here things were different.

They were _safe_ here.

The amount of difference this made was incommensurable.

However, more than that, more than the fact that now they’re safe, that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, that he can _see_ a future, what really makes him… hopeful is the fact that there’s a Stiles in this universe.

Overall, Stiles is pretty much Thomas. Same sense of humor and same curiosity, and same lips and eyes, even though Stiles’s skin is pale and soft, whereas Thomas’s is hardened edges and burns from the Scorch, but it’s the same essence.

He’s not sure he could have ever _had_ Thomas, really, not in the way he wants to, because Thomas showed every single sign of being straight as an arrow. Apart from some of the looks he and Aris had exchanged briefly, his best friend had only ever been interested in girls – Stiles, though, well, Stiles has a boyfriend. If that doesn’t make him keen on at least playing both sides of the fence, Minho doesn’t know what would.

Except in him having a boyfriend lies the next problem: he _has_ a boyfriend. It’s like someone showing up in front of him, dangling everything he wants and then saying, sorry, but you can’t have this.

Earlier that day, when they had been in the Preserve, having what Stiles insisted in calling a picnic, although Minho was more inclined to call it a weird meal sitting in a creepy clearing in the middle of a creepy forest, he couldn’t help but watch the way Stiles and Derek interacted.

It had looked so _easy_.

It was all small touches and fast looks, and yet they got each other. It’s not like he and Thomas don’t do that all the time – they do. It’s infuriating, because they do! They get each other as easily as Stiles and Derek do, and yet he has no idea what Thomas is thinking half the time, and the other half he can’t ever be too sure.

Now they’re back home and Stiles is on the phone, trying to get a guy called Danny to come over and help them create IDs, so they can enroll in school.

He doesn’t even think he _ever_ went to school – well, maybe before. Before the disaster, before the Flare, before he was kidnapped or sold or whatever to WICKED. Before he was an Immune and not a person.

He’s going to school, with Thomas and Stiles and all the others, and it’s a tiny bit overwhelming.

“It’s a bit eerie, isn’t it?” he startles a bit and glares at the girl by his side, he hadn’t even remembered she was there at all. She smiles at him, throwing her flaming red hair over her shoulder, and looking at the two boys a few feet away from them, Stiles still on the phone, Thomas sitting nearby, flicking through the TV channels, seeming amused by the ridiculous amount of choices, “I mean, they are _very_ obviously different, because your Thomas seems older and a bit more… suffered”, she pauses and Minho nods, agreeing, “But it’s eerie. Knowing they are the same person and yet aren’t. Knowing that _that_ world’s Stiles doesn’t have us. Doesn’t have a whole group of people who would die for him, who _have_ killed for him.”

“Thomas had it”, he tells her, leaning against the kitchen counter, eyes still on both boys who are now talking about some show on the TV, with a lot of people dancing and singing in the middle of a high school hallway, “We had it. We just lost all of them along the way.”

Lydia is quiet for a bit, seeming to be considering it.

“Maybe that’s why your timeline was the worst – not just because of the sun flares or the disease, but because you both lost everything that makes all of it bearable. We’ve been through a _lot_ , but we’ve always had each other. When Scott was bitten, Stiles was there; and when Jackson was turned into a killing lizard, I was there; and when I was finding dead people’s bodies all over the place, Stiles was there. And when Stiles thought he couldn’t overcome all that he’d been through, Derek was there for him”, she stops and he looks to his side, seeing she’s staring at him knowingly, as if she _knows_ , he doesn’t even know _what_ , but she just _does_.

It’s pretty creepy.

“Was there a me in your timeline?”

Minho is a bit disoriented – he was expecting her to call him on his obvious feelings for Thomas, and what that could mean for Derek and Stiles.

“A you?”

She shrugs delicately.

“A me. A girl your boy over there pined over for a long while even though he was clearly _not_ interested in girls. Someone he would idolize, not really see the nature of until later on, and only after being shown time and again that she was _not_ for him, realize that what he wanted was right there.”

“Two”, Minho says, with a small sigh, glaring at nothing. Lydia arches an eyebrow at him, and he shrugs a bit angrily, “Two girls, and none of them was good news.”

Lydia is quiet for a moment, seeming to take it all in.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s over now.”

Lydia seems to want to say something else, but both of them can see Thomas watching them now, and Minho doesn’t want to go any further. He doesn’t think he can.

Let them enjoy a bit of peace and quiet, let them be themselves for a little while at least, not running for their lives, not living in bitterness for being saved and yet still imprisoned, let them just… be.

They have enough to deal with as it is.

He looks at the girl, and Lydia is staring at him then, a knowing look in her eyes that he really doesn’t like.

At all.

“So…” Stiles starts, elongating the vowel and getting up, “Danny says he’ll be here later to help, but he doesn’t want to know anything, which is, you know, comprehensible. Kinda.”

He shrugs, and Minho stares a bit.

“He doesn’t want to know anything?”

“Nope.”

Lydia sighs, then, looking bored.

“He used to date this guy, who was a werewolf too. A bad one. And then the guy skipped town, and Danny swore off all supernatural stuff, because he has the kind of common sense we obviously lack.”

“Hey, it’s his choice” Stiles tells her, frowning, “I feel bad calling him back into it, but we need to legitimize these two, and he’s the only one who can do it. I fully intend on not telling him anything he doesn’t want to know, and never ask for favors again”, he pauses for a moment before shrugging, “If I can help it.”

They fall into somewhat easy conversation after that, Lydia and Stiles quipping back and forth while he and Tomas watch them, and that in and of itself is weird – all the watching they’ve been doing, all the silence.

Processing. He wonders if Thomas is feeling the way he is, as if he’s dreaming, even though he’s pretty sure it _is_ real, it hasn’t sunk in.

Not fully.

This is too good to be true still, werewolves or no werewolves.

Suddenly, the house seems too small, too enclosed a space for him to be comfortable, and he slips through the back door into the backyard, not really noticing Thomas’s eyes following his every move.

It’s not a big yard, as far as he can tell, but the at the back of it, passing the small fence around it, it’s the Preserve. Wood and tress and small noises that he’s so used to.

He leans against the fence, as far from the house as he can get without actually leaving the yard, and closes his eyes for a moment, just listening – he was so used to the nature, the birds and small night creatures around their buildings in the island. Before that, it was the Glade, and the weird, metallic sounds of the Grievers crawling around the Maze at night, but here it’s the strangest he’s heard yet – the faint sound of cars running late into the night. A TV on at the neighbor’s house, someone with their stereo a bit louder than what he thinks would be polite, the other kids in the house, still talking as Stiles decides to order food as his dad won’t be at home for dinner and he doesn’t have to keep it healthy.

Overwhelming, definitely, and he’s not really sure how to deal with it, because maybe speaking out about it would be a weakness, and he’s so used to not showing any weaknesses, at not having that privilege.

In the Glade, you showed weakness, you were out. You weren’t fit to be a leader anymore, and then you wouldn’t be making the decisions, and he just wasn’t the kind of person to let the others do the decision making _for_ him. And then the Scorch, and Denver, and WICKED again, and the Island… when would he have the time to be weak, with Brenda prowling around, just waiting for the first sign of weakness from him to become Thomas’s second in command?

It’s weird that here Stiles doesn’t seem to be the leader – he isn’t, really. Scott’s second. Derek’s second, even Lydia’s second, always deferring to the others most of the time, and then just… deciding something, and precisely because he doesn’t do it often, the others seem to take his word for it so easily.

Would Thomas be like that, if he were a better leader back then? If he had asked the questions, if he had figured out the Maze – hell, if he had been close to Teresa instead of Thomas, would Thomas be calmer, more peaceful, the way Stiles is?

If he had been stronger, would Thomas have been safer? Happier?

Is it somehow his fault all of their friends are dead, that they are the only ones left?

He sighs, running a hand over his face, exasperated at his own thoughts – if he had known he would become such a sap just because his life wasn’t in danger, he would have stayed in the Glade.

Well, no, he wouldn’t, but still. He was free now, he could be anything, do anything.

There was _nothing_ to complain about. He just needs to get some perspective. To get used to the way things are here.

Minho hears a noise behind him and turns around fast, hand already going to where he used to keep his knife on his belt, but he has nothing. As soon as he decides that his best course of action would probably be going back into the house, Derek shows up from the forest, and he raises an eyebrow at the man.

Stiles’s boyfriend doesn’t really speak to him, just leans against the fence beside him, and Minho can’t help but feel a bit nervous – he _has_ been ogling the guy’s boyfriend a _lot_ , he can’t help it.

It’s like a Thomas do over.

Except he doesn’t want a do over.

He’s not even sure he wants Thomas like that at all.

Derek stares at him for a bit, then at the house, snorting a small laugh at something he’s heard but that Minho can’t, being a human and all. The man looks ahead of him, as if considering a course of action, and Minho just tries to focus on waiting it out.

Stiles won’t let his boyfriend kill him, after having brought them from another universe.

He hopes.

“You’re not Scott.”

Minho turns a but to stare incredulously at Derek, then.

“Yeah, I know that. I’m Minho.”

Derek shakes his head, exasperated, as if explaining this will be draining, and he just wants to get it over with.

“You’re not Scott. You’re not _Thomas’s_ Scott” he pauses then, looking straight ahead, “You’re me.”

He doesn’t really know how to respond to that, because, well, it makes sense.

He just doesn’t know if Derek telling him that is a threat, or a warning, or just good old advice.

He’s saved from having to think on it though, because Derek suddenly turns to the house with a frown and runs to it, Minho following as fast as he can.

The back door is open when he gets there, and Stiles is staring at Derek, his eyes wide, holding a cellphone in his hand.

“Something just tried to kill Scott.”

Oh, well, that’ll take his thoughts off his love life, won’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think on a comment, or come say hello on [Tumblr](http://darkjan.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. The devil you know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, I may have accidentally angst-ed all over this chapter.  
> I didn't mean to, it just happened. :/

**Chapter Seven**

**The devil you know**

Scott isn’t even sure how it happened, because it had been so fast – something _huge_ had come after him, knocking him off his bike, sending him careening towards the edge of the forest on his way to pick up Danny so they could go to Stiles’s, and procure the boys some illegal documents.

All he knows is that the thing was big, and bony, and scary, and if it hadn’t been for the help he got, he’d be dead right now. Really dead.

And he’s an Alpha werewolf, killing him is no easy feat.

He stares at his bike, now thrown at the side of the road and sighs sadly – there goes a month’s worth of paychecks to fix the whole thing again, even if he did most of the work himself.

Still, better than being dead, right?

“Thanks” he tells the person who helped him, and receives only a nod in return. Scott stares at his bike some more, and then gets his cell to call Stiles and let him know he’ll be late, that someone else has to go and pick up Danny and also that something’s tried to kill him – in that order.

He knows Stiles is probably freaking out by now, but he also knows his best friend would rather hear everything as soon as it happened than finding out later. He promises he’ll send Isaac out to pick up Danny, and now all Scott has to do is find a way home.

“Any chance you could give me a ride?” he asks his rescuer, and receives a small huff in return, but also a nod.

Just when he thought they’d get a break – bone monsters.

With a sigh, he gets on the motorcycle and they drive away. The faster he gets to the pack, the faster they can start solving their new problem.

**X**

To say there’s a change in Stiles’s behavior is the understatement of the century – the kid is transformed. He’s gone from a sarcastic, almost goofy kid to a worried man in seconds, and the change is weirdly calming to Thomas.

 _This_? This behavior he recognizes. This he’s done a hundred times in the past year and a half, probably way more before he gave up his memories – it’s the being happy and normal and having a dad and being in a relationship that he was having trouble understanding.

As soon as he answered the call from Scott, his whole demeanor changed in a second. His face became blank and his eyes hard, breathing controlled and his hands slightly shaking as he tried to gather as much information as possible in such a short call.

He hangs up and Derek comes right in from the back door, Minho hot on his heels, and Stiles stares wide eyed at his boyfriend for a moment.

“Something just tried to kill Scott.”

Thomas can see the older guy processing the information as quickly as he can, already reaching out to Stiles, coming closer, as if physical proximity would make the perspective of having his best friend almost die a little less dire.

“Did he say what attacked him?”

Stiles shakes his head, already dialing another number on his phone, asking the Isaac kid to go and pick up Danny, making up some dumb excuse that the werewolf on the other side of the line probably doesn’t even believe, but has enough sense not to argue.

“Are you sure we should bring Danny here now?” Derek asks, and Thomas kind of agrees. They had said before that they wanted to keep this boy away from the stuff they got into, it doesn’t seem like they should be bringing him here when their Alpha was almost killed.

“We can’t stop planning for the future every time something tries to kill one of us, Derek. We’d never get anything done that way,” Lydia says then, and Thomas looks at Minho, who’s already looking at him.

This is what Stiles was talking about before, isn’t it? Them being able to leave if something bad happened, them not owing the pack anything?

They could leave. They could just go, not even bother the Danny kid for IDs or anything, just… _go_. No more death threats, no more fighting for their lives.

But Minho is already looking away and getting closer to where Stiles is and how fair is it that this version of himself is already stealing his best friend from him, without even trying? There’s no way in hell Minho would agree to go away if he thinks Stiles would be in danger, and Thomas just can’t leave him behind.

It’s not fair.

Stiles has the father, and the friends, and the _planet_ that is not burned down and overrun with crazy, sick people. He has the boyfriend, and the house, and the pack.

He can’t have Minho too.

And yes, he does realize how immature he sounds, but he’s not sure he cares.

“Look, Danny is coming and getting these guys some legit documents, so they can do whatever it is they want to do. I didn’t bring them from another universe to have them stranded here. While they deal with _that_ , we try and figure out what tried to kill our dear Alpha, and why the hell would anything be crazy enough to attack the strongest person in the pack first. Anyone of us would be an easier target.”

“Unless they don’t know what’s happened in here the past few months. Maybe they don’t know Scott is the new Alpha, and still think he doesn’t have a pack of his own,” Lydia offers, shrugging, and Stiles nods a bit, clearly not buying that.

He should ask something, to get the lay of the land here. Know what they could be facing, get more information about it, but he doesn’t _want_ to. He wants… peace and quiet. He does feel gratitude towards Stiles for helping them, and all the rest of them for taking them in, but he doesn’t want to buy a fight that isn’t theirs – Minho won’t go, though, he knows his friend enough to know that, and well, he can’t just leave without him.

It sucks.

Stiles and Lydia are still talking possibilities when Thomas sees Derek turn to the door and frown, the other two stopping their arguing and staring at the door two, noticing his behavior.

Scott comes in without knocking, looking winded and a bit scared, but unharmed.

And behind him comes a girl.

She’s a bit older than them, deep brown hair and a scar running down her throat, and Thomas feels as if he’s going to be sick.

“What is _she_ doing here?” Minho demands, already taking a threatening step towards her, but Scott waves him away, standing in front of her.

“Whoa, wait! She saved my life back there!”

“She did?” Stiles asks, staring at the girl too, but looking at Thomas quickly, and then at Minho, “Who is she, then?”

“Brenda,” Thomas answers, “That’s Brenda.”

So things _could_ get bad in this universe too.

 **“** The girl who… Oh crap,” Stiles’s eyes are huge, and Minho is still practically foaming at the mouth as the girl watches on, seeming a bit amused by the whole thing.

“It’s Braeden, actually” she raises an eyebrow at them, looking almost amused because they know who she is. Kind of. “And I’d love to know where you know me from, because I sure as hell don’t know you,” she pauses, with a little smirk so full of herself she’s almost unrecognizable as the Brenda Thomas knows, “Although I wouldn’t object to getting to know _you_ ” she completes, looking at Derek and winking.

“You know what, you should really go” Stiles tells her, face red in anger, but Scott stops him, sighing.

“We need to talk about what attacked me, and Braeden knows something about it. She could help.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” the woman starts with a condescending smile, “I don’t help. Not for free.”

“You helped me.”

The woman shrugs, looking around, taking account of every door and window, Thomas is sure.

“At that specific moment, saving you meant getting my job done. I won’t make a habit out of it.”

“Can’t you at least tell us what those things were?” Derek asks, and she smirks at him again.

Thomas sees Stiles closing his hands into fists and shaking his head slightly, but he doesn’t say anything.

She stares at him for a moment and then sighs, as if put out by it.

“Just because you are cute, I’ll help you out this once. They are called Berserkers. And if you happen to meet any of them again, you run.”

“Why would they attack Scott, though?” Stiles asks, and she barely looks at him, shrugging.

“They must have their reasons. Try not to get mixed up in this, I won’t be around to help you again.”

And with that, she walks out the door, just as Isaac and a boy Thomas guesses is Danny are coming in.

Isaac stares as she passes, smirking a bit in his direction, and then he looks at Scott.

“That was Braeden. The girl who saved me from the Alphas.”

“Well, isn’t she just a regular Wonder Woman” Stiles mutters, looking… dejected.

Thomas is kind of confused by it, he would have expected Stiles to be angry at her passes on his boyfriend, or maybe relieved that she seemed to be saving the people from his pack for a while, but he looks… Thomas can’t define it. Defensive.

It’s weird.

“Saving you or not saving you, I wouldn’t trust her for anything. She’s a double crossing bitch.” Minho’s voice is full of anger and Thomas gets it. He does. No one feels more betrayed by Brenda than he does, but, hey, this is another universe, maybe she isn’t as bad here.

“Okaaaaaaay, look. I was told I needed to come here to help someone, and the Sheriff approved that help. I _really_ don’t want to know why any of you needs to be saved, and I would like to get back to my house before any of you becomes even more of a part of a horror movie, so could anyone tell me what I need to do so I can leave?”

Stiles huffs a laugh at that and gestures Danny to the stairs.

“Let’s go to my room and we can fill you in on what you need to help us with.”

“Stiles,” Scott starts, but the boy just smiles at him, a weird, bitter little smile, and waves him away.

“You guys talk; my clone, Minho and I are going to talk to Danny.”

He heads for the stairs and Thomas follows, knowing Minho will come to.

This is now officially weird, and this is only their second day in an _alternative universe_.

There are no limits to how screwed up their lives can be.

“Clone?” Danny asks as soon as the door is closed behind them, starting at Thomas and then Stiles, clearly uneasy with the possibility of a _clone_.

“Not really? Look, you don’t want to know stuff, I’m not going to tell you stuff, okay? We just need to get them IDs, seeing as they don’t really exist. Well, in this universe at least.”

Danny runs his hands over his face, letting out a tired sigh.

“Just… tell me.”

“Danny…”

“Stiles, just tell me. I can handle it.”

The two stare at each other for a moment, and then Stiles throws his hands up, exasperated.

“You asked for it, ok?” he waits until Danny nods before continuing, “I was practicing magic, and I lost focus, and ended up trying to save me and whoever else was important to me from the worst that could happen, ever. I just wasn’t concentrating enough, and I ended up… summoning Thomas and Minho from another universe.”

“One that was worse than here?” Danny asks after a small pause, as if he doesn’t really believe such a thing could exist.

“Do they look like they were saved from boredom or something? Yes, worse than here. We just need to get them IDs so they can decide what to do, and we can’t just go all ‘hey, we need to legitimize these guys who came from another universe, is that cool?’, can we?”

“One day, I’m going to understand how the hell you guys get into this kind of stuff,” Danny says, sitting on Stiles’s desk and pulling out his notebook, shaking his head.

“Yeah, if you figure that out, please tell me, ‘cause I’d like to know that myself.”

“Being best friends with an Alpha and dating a werewolf may be a small part of it, though.” Danny’s tone is clearly teasing, but Stiles stays serious, looking out the window.

“Yeah. It may be.” His voice is quiet, and Thomas is unsettled by it.

This is… new.

Danny seems a bit disconcerted by his friend’s answer too, and sets to work with a small sigh.

Thomas is starting to think that he doesn’t really want to be as left out as he is making it out to be, but this is really not his problem, and he doesn’t want to make it his problem.

As Danny works on his computer, Minho stares at the kid occasionally, frowning a bit and then shaking his head, before going to sit on Stiles’s bed, picking up a book on his nightstand. Stiles is still quiet, and it’s getting a bit eerie. He knows he’s only known Stiles for two days, but that’s kind of him too, and it’s not in their nature to be that quiet.

It’s freaking him out.

Finally, Danny stands up, closes the lid on his notebook and picks up his phone, asking to take pictures of both Minho and him against the white wall in Stiles’s bedroom.

“I’ll get the rest of it done tonight, and get a guy to manage the driver’s licenses and stuff. I’m making Thomas a year older than you, Stiles. Minho too, by the way. It’s less suspicious.”

Stiles nods at him, heaving a sigh.

“Thanks, Danny. We owe you.”

“You really do. Those IDs won’t come cheap, but you can give me the money later.”

He looks as if he wants to say something else, but just nods at Thomas and Minho and leaves, waving Stiles away when he says he’ll take him to the door.

They are done here, so, objectively, they should go downstairs and talk to the others, but Stiles doesn’t seem inclined to leave.

“He was in the Maze,” Minho says suddenly and both Thomas and Stiles turn to stare at him. He’s looking at the floor, hands in fists by his sides.

“I don’t remember him” Thomas comments, frowning. There were a _lot_ of kids in there, maybe he never got around to meeting him.

“He didn’t last very long,” it’s Minho’s answer, swallowing dry, “A lot of them didn’t last very long.”

“And Bren… Braeden?” Stiles asks, “She was… Thomas’s girlfriend?”

“We were together until she told me she was under orders to save us, nothing more. She worked for the Chancellor the whole time.” He shrugs, sitting beside Minho on the bed, “It’s not that she’s the devil or anything, just… she obeyed orders before she did anything else. She made me believe she… She liked me. That she had done all of that because it was the right thing, not because they were her orders.”

“I’m sorry she did that to you,” Stiles says, looking actually sorry for it, “And that you had to see her again, in this… version.”

“As long as you stay away from her, I don’t think she can seduce you or anything,” Minho says, trying to lighten the mood, but Stiles laughs bitterly then, shaking his head and turning away from them.

“I don’t think it’s me she’d come after.” His words are quiet and hurt, and Thomas doesn’t really understand how a comment as small as Bren… damn it! Braeden’s was could hurt the kid this much.

Before they can say anything, though, Scott shows up at the door.

“Hey, we’re waiting for you downstairs. You coming?”

It’s apparently meant for Stiles, but Thomas sees the invitation for what it is too: are they coming? Are they willing to risk their lives or are they going to hide in Stiles’s bedroom until they officially (and illegally) exist in this world, and then leave?

But Minho is already out the door before even Stiles can go, and Thomas has his answer – yeah, they’re coming. For better or for worse, they are coming.

When they get downstairs, the others are in the living room, sitting on the couches and on the floor, looking frustrated.

“So, did we find anything else?” Stiles asks, setting down on the floor beside Minho, and Thomas sits on his other side, opposite Derek, who frowns, seeing as there were a space open beside him on the couch.

“Not yet. We called Allison, she’ll try to see if her dad knows anything, but we’re not really counting on him being all that helpful.” Scott explains with a small shrug.

“Should we tell Jackson? I think by now he’s the only one who doesn’t know anything.” Isaac points out, and Stiles rolls his eyes.

Thomas isn’t a big fan of the spoiled blond either.

“I’ll go by his house when I leave here and tell him,” Lydia promises, “Meanwhile, we should really try and find out whatever we can on these Berserkers.”

“I’ll start researching as soon as we’re done here,” Stiles tells them, and they all nod.

“Maybe it’d be worth a shot trying to get in touch with Braeden again,” Isaac suggests, and Stiles snorts, looking down.

“Maybe we should send Derek to her. She seemed open to _talking_ to him.”

The others stare at him and Derek in discomfort for a moment, before Derek gets up.

“Maybe I should, actually. If she’s willing to tell me anything, why not use it?”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Stiles asks, looking up at the man, “Didn’t you hear what Minho said? We can’t trust her!”

“Well, I’m not _you_ , clearly, things won’t go the same way, will they?”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Stiles gets up then, and Thomas doesn’t even realize he’s rising too, just as pissed off as the other boy.

Suddenly, it’s him, Minho and Stiles facing against Derek, who shakes his head.

“Nothing. It means nothing, and it’s ridiculous you’d think it would mean anything. It’s just information and we could get it.”

Stiles changes then, cold anger all over his face, but before he can say anything, Lydia gasps and everyone turns to stare at her.

“Allison,” she says in a weird voice.

And then she screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think on a comment, or come say hello on [Tumblr](http://darkjan.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Again and again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, beware the differences here from canon - some of it is because season 4 just doesn't fit in here, what with me starting this before 3B had been on. Some of it, though, it's because I see so much potential that's just being WASTED, like Lydia. 
> 
> Now, I'm not a huuuuuuuge Lydia fan, but the premise of her character is pretty awesome, and yet, there she is, looking mildly distressed, mouth hanging open, and gasping a lot, but that's it.
> 
> So, just as I used Stiles's Spark a little more, I'm giving Lydia some badass Banshee-ish powers, because it seems more natural than her having the potential and never doing anything more with it than attracting the attention of cute deputies.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it!

**Chapter Eight**

**Again and again**

Derek is quite aware of the fact that he isn’t very good with people.

He had been, once. Before Paige.

After that, he had always had a tough time figuring out what he could say, what he could do, and Kate didn’t help matters any, not even before she killed his whole family – growing up with people like Laura and Peter hadn’t been easy, no matter how much he loved them before the fire, or how much Laura helped him after it. Truth is that when someone is brought up in the shadow of his older sister who was always meant to be the leader and an uncle whose favorite pastimes were mind games and manipulating people’s lives, it takes a lot for someone to really know how to interact with the rest of the world, especially after your first girlfriend dies, in your arms, because of your stupid decisions.

He’s better now, sure. Seeing his mother helped, and not being the Alpha anymore helped him even more, but sometimes he forgets what his part in all of this mess is, and sometimes he forgets he’s better adjusted now, and sometimes, like right now, he forgets his boyfriend is seventeen.

More than that, because of how good Stiles is at hiding things, sometimes he forgets Stiles isn’t all right most of the time.

Pretty soon after he lost Boyd and Erica, he realized the only way he would survive this whole Beacon Hills thing would be to just go with the flow of things, take whatever life throws at him and just… go with it.

That’s why he had only managed to be exasperated, and not desperate, when he saw a clone of Stiles lying on his bed. That’s why he hasn’t freaked out when he realized Thomas’s friend kept looking at Stiles as if he’s the most precious thing in the world, and that’s why he’s managed not going crazy when something weird attacked Scott.

But his quota of weird has already been filled up twice in the last forty eight hours, and when the girl who saved Scott (and, of course, a doppelganger of the girl who betrayed Thomas, why not?) starts hitting on him, _and Stiles actually gets offended_ , his maturity kind of went out the window – especially when his boyfriend decided to go with the newcomers instead of staying by his side, by their pack.

Sometimes he has a hard time adjusting to the way things are, sometimes he forgets Stiles is young and incredibly insecure, and sometimes he forgets about the darkness that takes over him, he forgets the Nogitsune messed with his head in a way that never really went away.

He baits Stiles on purpose, without really meaning to hurt him, but he does, and he can see he’s just making everything worse and can’t stop, and then he starts baiting Thomas too, and Minho by association, and the three of them are there, together, looking at him as if he’s the enemy, and he knows he has to _undo this_ , but then Lydia screams, and it all goes to hell so fast he can’t even process what’s happening.

Scott is frozen for a second and then his eyes flash red. Derek starts to fear for the safety of everyone in the room, but he seems to calm down after a few seconds.

“Lydia, what can you tell us?” The kid’s voice is still a bit weird from the fangs trying to come out, but he’s doing his best.

Lydia is trembling slightly, and Stiles sets a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down.

“Allison. We need to get to her.”

“Is she…” but she’s already shaking her head.

“I don’t… I don’t think so. It’s just, they came for Chris, but they got her.”

Scott looks up at the others in the room at that.

“I’m going.”

“ _We_ are going,” Stiles corrects him, “Isaac, take Lydia and go to Jackson’s, you guys should be safe there. Fill him in as much as you can. We’ll call you as soon as it’s safe.”

Isaac looks at Scott and the Alpha just nods, prompting Isaac to help Lydia out the door.

Scott’s already moving to the Jeep, and Derek hurries to follow in his car, when he notices the two other boys following him out.

“You don’t need to come,” Stiles tells them before Derek can, “This isn’t your mess, you don’t have to—“

“We’re coming. And if we can help, we’re helping.” Minho cuts him off before he can say anything else.

Stiles only nods and they follow him to the Jeep, leaving Derek alone in his car.

For once in his life, he wished he could deal with one crises at a time.

Just once.

He follows the car to the Argent’s apartment and hopes for the best – both for Allison and him.

**X**

As much as he’s all for helping, Minho has _no idea_ what they’re getting themselves into here, and he has a feeling neither do any of the pack.

Why are they hurrying to Allison after Lydia screamed? Stiles never mentioned her being a werewolf or anything, but that freaking scream had been _anything_ but human.

He looks at Thomas, sitting by his side on the backseat of the Jeep – Scott frozen on his seat, and Stiles breaking a thousand laws to get them to Allison as fast as he can – and he can see in his friend’s eyes the same thing he knows it’s in his: they are so freaking out of their depth here.

No matter that their universe was _worse_ , this one is crazier.

Finally, Stiles stops the car, and they run inside. Allison’s father (or who he’s assuming is her father), is unconscious on the floor, but he’s breathing and that’s way more than what they can say for Allison – the girl is lying on the floor a few steps away from her dad, a gash on her stomach, blood on the floor around her, and it looks… She’s pale, and Minho can’t really see any movement from her.

She doesn’t look like she’s breathing.

Scott kneels beside her, taking her head in his hands, and takes a deep breath.

“She’s alive. She’s… she’s alive,” his voice is thick with emotion, and Minho has the feeling that there’s a whole lot of history between them, a lot more than they know.

Derek is propping the girl’s father up, the man blinking slowly, his eyes searching for his kid at once. Minho can see the exact moment he understands what’s happening, because he looks as if he wants to go and kill something – but that’s not going to help anyone, and he thanks whatever deity that exists for Derek holding the man in place, trying to calm him down.

“Scott, what do we do?” Stiles’s voice is calm and controlled in a way that isn’t really _natural_. He’s freaking out – oh, he’s _freaking out_ – but trying to hold it together, because he knows it won’t help anyone if he just despairs.

He gets that. He knows Thomas does it too.

“We have to get her to the hospital,” Thomas says then, a little bit of his old attitude coming back to him, as if he can lead these people, as if they know what they are dealing with here.

“She won’t make it to the hospital,” Scott tells him, looking increasingly desperate, his voice rough and eyes full of tears.

“Can you turn her?”

Allison’s father’s voice is broken. He asks that question as if this is the last thing he ever wants to ask, but he seems willing to ask it if it can save his daughter. That’s good, he thinks.

Scott looks up at that, Allison’s seemingly lifeless body paler by the second, and he looks at Derek, who shakes his head regretfully.

“She’s not strong enough. She won’t resist the bite,” he pauses then, looks at the girl and seems to struggle with something, “We can try, but—“

“No one else is dying.”

Stiles’s voice is quiet and cold. He looks determined in a way Minho hadn’t seen him look before, and his eyes seem to be… not quite human.

“Stiles,” Derek starts, but the boy is already kneeling beside Scott, his hands over Allison’s wounds, and he closes his eyes, muttering something too quiet for Minho or Thomas to hear, but both werewolves are listening just fine, and it makes Derek’s eyes fill with tears, and Scott closes his own, as if guarding against it.

Slowly, painfully, Stiles chants and the air around them seems to fill with energy – static energy or electricity, the kind of peace that comes when a huge storm is coming, and the world seems a bit calmer, a bit quieter.

Stiles looks like a storm, eyes closed, pale hands stained with blood from one of his best friends, and Scott beside him, Derek and him both looking as if they want to reach out to him but not daring to.

It dawns on Minho then that Stiles brought them here _by magic_. _He_ brought them here from their terrible world, by himself.

He had been so worried with fitting in, and seeing Thomas in a new light, and what Stiles meant for him because of his similarities with Thomas, and realizing werewolves were a thing that existed, that he hadn’t fully appreciated the fact that Stiles, by himself and not even trying all that hard, it seemed, had brought them here by sheer force of will. With his _Spark_.

What happens next is not what Minho expected magic to be like at all. There are no bright flashes of light or thunder ringing in the skies. No one screams loudly and no fantastic smoke starts rising from the ground.

Allison just takes in a loud breath – louder than before, but still so quiet that they only hear it because all of them are staring at her and Stiles non-stop the whole time, and then Stiles leans back a bit, watching as she opens her eyes with a grimace of pain, and Scott pulls her close, staring at Stiles with pure adoration in his eyes.

Stiles smiles then, accomplished and proud, and promptly falls back, unconscious.

Not quite on par with being attacked by a Griever or running from the Maze, but this world still sucks.

“Is he okay?” Scott asks, looking divided between the wish not to let go of Allison and helping Stiles, but Derek is already there, taking the boy into his arms as if he weighs nothing, leaving Allison’s dad to go to his daughter.

The girl looks scared and confused, but she’s alive and that’s all that matters – except that Stiles is still unconscious and it’s kind of freaking Minho out more than Allison almost dying did.

“He’s fine,” Derek answers, staring at his boyfriend’s face as if afraid he’ll disappear, “Just exhausted, I think. Deaton warned him too much magic could be taxing, and he pulled two huge stunts in two days. He just needs sleep, and he’ll be fine.” He finishes his sentence with a firm nod, as if trying to convince Scott as much as he’s trying to convince himself of it.

“You should take him home,” Allison says then, voice quiet and rough, but clear. The blood on the corner of her mouth and the gash on her blouse seem surreal with how okay she looks already, “He needs sleep. I’ll fill Scott in on what happened here, I just think I need to rest a bit first.”

Derek looks torn, and Minho gets it. By what Stiles told them, Derek used to be their boss, their Alpha, and now that job is Scott’s, but Derek is still the older member of their pack, he still feels responsible for them, and leaving would mean being left out. On the other hand, this is not just any pack member, but Derek’s boyfriend – who Derek was in a fight with before all of this happened.

“We can take Stiles home. We’ll take care of him if you want to stay.”

Thomas’s voice surprises Minho as much as it surprises all the others. He looks defiant then, taking a step forward, as if to take Stiles from Derek, and the werewolf tightens his hold on Stiles, shaking his head.

“I’ll take him.”

“We’re coming with,” Thomas says then, eyes not leaving Derek’s, “I’m really sorry, Scott, but we’re on Stiles’s side in this, and with all that’s going on, I think he’s the one we want to protect if it comes down to it.”

Scott doesn’t protest – on the contrary, he looks happy for it, nodding along.

“Go. I’ll talk to Allison and Chris and come by later. Call Isaac or Lydia, tell them everything’s fine.”

Derek nods tersely and turns to leave, Thomas following barely a step behind him, and Minho follows, even if a bit confused.

They get to Derek’s car, and the man looks conflicted, as if he doesn’t want to leave Stiles, but knowing he can’t exactly drive with him in his arms.

Thomas gets in first, taking the back seat, and reaching out for Stiles. Derek hesitates, and the other boy snorts.

“We can’t drive, we don’t even _exist_ in this universe, and you can’t drive with him.”

The werewolf doesn’t look like he is okay with the arrangement, but says nothing of it, just setting Stiles as best as he can on the backseat.

Minho looks at Thomas then, raising an eyebrow in question, as Derek is going to the other side to get in, and Thomas smiles at him a bit mischievously.

They all get in, and Derek leaves. Looking at the rearview mirror to the backseat, where Thomas has propped Stiles against his side, arm around his doppelganger. Derek looks pissed, and Thomas looks extremely pleased.

What the hell is that all about?

**X**

Scott has to reach out and touch Allison’s skin every few seconds to be sure she’s okay, and she can only smile gently at him – she had never been so afraid in her whole life as she had been when she realized how deep her wound was, how much blood she was losing, how fast she was fading.

She can live a hundred years and not be able to thank Stiles enough, not only for her, but for her father as well – with her gone, what would he have to live for? He lost his position, his sister, his father, his wife, everything. She’s all he has.

Another deep breath, and she holds the mug on her hands a little more tightly, savoring the warmth of it. Her dad is sitting right by her side on the bed, Scott at the foot of it, his left hand on her ankle, and she smiles gently at him, receiving a beaming smile back.

She’s missed this more than she wants to let herself think.

“Can you tell us what happened?” he asks after a few moments, after letting her get off the floor and clean up and Chris making her tea, and making her lie down. Truth is she’s feeling fine. Physically fine. It’s just her emotional balance that it’s a little off, and it’s more than just almost dying, again.

“They came for dad,” she starts, looking down, “They knocked him down, and I had never seen something move that fast. Not even the Oni moved that fast.”

“They attacked me earlier too – they’re called Berserkers. We were just about to call you when Lydia screamed.”

“Well, they knocked him down, and I heard noises and went after them. At first they just tried to brush me off, but I attacked and…” she swallows drily then, closing her eyes, remembering the pain, the shock, the feeling of having a blade run through your skin so deep it seems as if it’s a part of you, “One of the things fought back, and it got me. It pulled away, though, when the… when the person controlling them called.”

“You saw who it was?” Chris asks, eyes scared and angry.

Allison nods, looking down, fingers playing with the sleeve of her shirt.

“She didn’t mean to hurt me, I think. She just wanted something you had. She got scared when they hit me, I think she didn’t want any of us killed.”

Her dad is frowning when she stops speaking, and so is Scott.

“Who’s she?” the Alpha asks after a few more moments, when she doesn’t really know how to say it, and she looks up, but turns to her dad, because he’s the one who’s going to suffer with this, more than anyone else – well, except for Derek. There’s a reason she told him to go.

“Kate. It was Kate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think on a comment, or come say hello on [Tumblr](http://darkjan.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Please, let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, you can find me on [Tumblr](http://darkjan.tumblr.com/)


End file.
